Leprechauns that stand over six feet tall. A creepy orchard full of skeletons. Characters with names like Shadow Moon, Bilquis and Mr. Wednesday. … Yes, it doesn’t take very long to realize that “American Gods,” the mind-blowing fantasy epic that debuts this weekend on Starz, is a brazenly offbeat television experience.

Of course, passionate fans of Neil Gaiman’s 2001 seminal novel have some idea of what they’re in for. But executive producer Bryan Fuller insists that this ambitious adaptation was made for people (like me) who haven’t read the book. And that’s a good thing, because I believe a a great many converts are in for some amazing surprises.

First, a quick primer: “American Gods” is an allegorical tale asking you to believe that there are gods walking among us. In fact, until they choose to reveal themselves, they pretty much look and act like ordinary folk.

Apparently, there is a huge generation gap among these supreme beings. On one side, you’ve got ancient and basically dormant gods whose powers waned as faith in them diminished. And then there are newer, more powerful deities who reflect our latest obsessions with things like technology, celebrity and consumerism.

These sets of titans are about to clash.

It’s through the head and heart of Moon Shadow (Ricky Whittle) that we experience Gaiman’s strange world. He’s a stoic ex-convict who, on the eve of his release from incarceration, receives some awful news. Suddenly, the uplifting post-prison life he envisioned must be reconciled with an agonizing new reality.

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On the flight home, Shadow finds himself in the company of a mysterious man named Wednesday (Ian McShane), who seems to be little more than a sly and charming con man. But he’s really one of those blast-from-the-past gods, and he’s on a mission to reclaim lost glory. In a moment of weakness, Shadow agrees to become Wednesday’s bodyguard. Fasten your seatbelt and let the wild times begin.

“American Gods” is definitely not for everybody. It contains more than its share of foul-mouthed characters and bloody violence. Sunday’s opener also features a jaw-dropping sex scene, the likes of which I’m sure has never been depicted on television.

But the show figures to cast a powerful spell over fantasy-loving adventure seekers who crave the unconventional. On that count, “American Gods” definitely delivers with a tale that, at turns, is provocative, terrifying, comical, disturbing, moody and visually stunning.

It also has something to say. Woven into the narrative are timely topics that range from religion, race and sexism to women’s rights and gun control. Moreover, each episode begins with a vignette that explains how a different god made his or her way here from another land. (The particularly powerful sequence for Episode 2 begins aboard a slave ship). It turns out that these deities are immigrants, and their stories just happen to carry some extra resonance in the age of Trump.

But when you get right down to it, “American Gods” is simply a gripping, entertaining tall tale buoyed by a standout cast that includes Kristin Chenoweth, Cloris Leachman, Gillian Anderson, Crispin Glover and Orlando Jones. At the very heart of it all are standout performances by Whittle and McShane, who in a bid to recruit those dormant gods to their fight, are about to embark on one heckuva cross-country road trip.

I call shotgun.

Contact Chuck Barney at cbarney@bayareanewsgroup.com. Follow him at Twitter.com/chuckbarney and Facebook.com/bayareanewsgroup.chuckbarney.

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